Phase Midnight
by The Freelancer Collaboration
Summary: A collection of M-rated one-shots and drabbles connected to our Project Freelancer Saga series, written by a collaboration of writers. M for language, sex, slash, fluff lemons and all manners of obscenity, a.k.a. the good stuff. So come on in! You know you want to!
1. Valentine's Day with Harper

**(A/N) Hey all, time for the second of our new fics to be unveiled this week – "Phase Midnight" – which was born when I received some one-shots too…adult…to include in our one-shot fic, Interphase, without violating its "T" rating. So from here on out, this'll be where you can find a collection of M-rated one-shots connected to our Project Freelancer Saga series. We'll have a few more updates on here over the next few weeks, and more on our other fics today, so keep an eye out! Starting us off is anna1795, with a very...well, a very interesting little one-shot!**

**Disclaimer: I'd just like to state that each chapter is to be considered solely the work of the individual writer, and these chapters can be considered either canon or AU, depending on the preference of the reader, unless either option is explicitly stated.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Valentine's Day with Harper**

**Lt Ian Harper**

**Written by anna1795**

* * *

"_Love is life, and hate is death. Valentine's Day chocolates should come in a box shaped like a coffin.__"_― Jarod Kintz.

* * *

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jay!" Harper says happily as he flops down into a chair, holding a box of expensive chocolates in his grip. He pushes it over towards Jay, who is face down on the table. Oddly enough, his boyfriend gives a negative grumble and pushes the box back towards him roughly. "What, you don't like chocolate?"

Jay gives an indeterminable grumble, his muscles clenching. Harper cocks his head oddly and stands up again. "Didn't quite hear that," he says smoothly, leaning over Jay's slumped body. "What was that?"

"Don't wanna…" he can barely make out from the mouth pressed up against the table.

"Oh, come on!" Harper complains. "I got these chocolates especially for you! You should at least try them," he says with a smile. Jay sits up rigidly and leans back in his chair, keeping his mouth firmly shut. Harper glares playfully at him.

"Come on, open up," he coos coaxingly, taking a chocolate in his fingers and putting them in front of his boyfriend's face. "Come on…" but Jay turns his head away defiantly, screwing up his face like a small child being fussy with their dinner.

"Jay, open up," Harper says sternly. Jay looked at him and shook his head again. "Don't be difficult." Again, a shake of the head.

With a sigh, Harper puts the chocolate in between his teeth and picks Jay up by the front of his shirt, deftly steering him towards their shared bed and laying him flat on his back. He straddles him determinedly. "Open up, Jay," he orders between the chocolate in his teeth.

Jay stares defiantly at him and bares his teeth. Harper clamps his hands down on his wrists and reaches them over his head intently, fumbling for a pair of cuffs that he knows are at the headboard. He finds them and expertly closes them around Jay's wrists, then he bends down and forces his mouth over the other man's mouth, forcing the chocolate between his lips and into his throat. He pulls back and closes Jay's mouth with his free hands. "Shh….shh…." he says softly while he runs two fingers down the quivering man's throat, making sure that the chocolate goes down without any trouble. "There…that wasn't so bad, was it?" he says gently, sitting back slightly. Jay gives a slight hiss before grinning mischievously.

"Don't know," he grumbles. "Might need a few more to get an accurate taste." Harper gives a wide grin and a wink. This was going to be a good night…


	2. Get in the Shower

**(A/N) Hey guys, time for another update for Phase Midnight, again written by the wonderful anna1795, of whom this fic is her brainchild. Think we should be able to get these chapters up fairly consistently, so keep an eye out for more in the future. The next one should go up on Friday, and will feature the talents of the equally-talented WargishBoromirFan!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Get in the Shower**

**Lt Ian Harper**

**Written by anna1795**

* * *

"_If love is a battlefield then lust is a playground...Meet me on the swings_?" ― Amanda Rose

* * *

Ian's nose flared as soon as the door opened, catching the delicious scents of blood, sweat, dirt, gunpowder, and battle. "Ah, you're back!" he said happily, standing up from his desk and turning around to look at his most prized possession, his greatest achievement. Jason stood there, just out of his armour, still covered in copious amounts of blood and filth. "How did it go?"

"Fine," was the single-worded answer as the dark-haired man moved across the room to the fridge, grabbing a beer.

Ian frowned slightly, following him. "Something wrong?"

"No," Jay said gruffly, taking a gulp of beer and setting the bottle down on the table. Harper grins again, sidling up to him.

"Did you miss me?" he teased, running a few fingers through his lover's filthy hair, and a smile was returned.

"…maybe a little," was the gruff reply before a hand catches his fingers, bringing them close together. "Need you," a hot voice whispered in his ear.

Ian's all too eager to jump at the opportunity, but steadies himself. "AFTER you're clean," he said finally. "Why don't you go and get cleaned up a bi-"

"No." He finds himself against the wall and a body pressed close to him. "I. Want. You. Now," Jay said through gritted teeth, his lips stained with blood. Harper almost melted at the brutal sight, it was so glorious. Still, his lover needed to be cowed.

"You're taking a shower now," Ian said determinedly, grabbing Jay's hands and pulling his feet out from under him to drag him, protesting, to the shower and pulling him in before turning on the water. The warm cascade hitting his body caused Jay to struggle and whine in Ian's grip, growling and trying to pull free before he was forced face-first against the wall, Harper pushing against him to keep him still.

"You're going to be fine," he growled in a soothing voice, somehow being heard over his lover's struggles. He didn't care that he's being soaked as well; it's all in the experience. "We're going to get you nice and clean." It's almost like a mother talking to an unruly son with the way that he's speaking to his loyal pet, but that didn't matter. Love was love, and that meant getting down and dirty…in a manner of speaking. He found a cloth and started rubbing at Jay's body, wiping away the residue of battles and missions, revealing fair skin and broad shoulders.

Ian trapped him with his legs and tore Jason's shirt off to get at the dirt underneath, and Jay proceeds to whip around and try to bite him. "Nu-uh," Ian chuckled, twisting Jay's head gently around so that his nose was flat against the wall and he can't turn. He gained a fistful of hair, gently shushing the man who's now whining underneath him, gasping and spluttering through the water.

"It's all going to be okay," he said gently, wiping at Jay's face with the cloth gently, not wanting to rub it raw. "I'm not going to let you drown…you can trust me, Jay…"

Finally, the water and Jay are both finally free of blood and grime, and he pulled Jason's unresisting body from the shower before wrapping it in a large, thick towel. Ian sat up on the sink and pulled Jay against him, rubbing at his body softly, pulling his head into his chest and drying his hair slowly, relishing in Jay's temporary submissiveness.

"There," he said, tossing the towel away. "Finally done." Jay was almost sparkling in his cleanliness, and Ian could fully appreciate his physique. He wanted it, badly, and he knew that Jason wants the same. He looked down at himself, completely soaked. "Now look what you've done," he mocked him accusingly. "You've made me all wet."

Jay looked guilty, but only for a second before he pulled Ian close to him. "Well, let's fix that, shall we?" Ian gave a short bark of laughter and grinned wolfishly. Battles of any kind did tend to make you horny, after all.


	3. One of These Mornings

**(A/N) Hey guys, time for another one-shot for Phase Midnight, this time written by the amazing WargishBoromirFan, featuring a pretty AU scenario facing South Dakota! I know I said that this'd go up last night, but a table quiz I thought would finish at eleven finished at two in the morning, so bed and sleep were more immediately on my mind! Anyways, we have the one-shot now, ready for your perusal!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**One of These Mornings**

**Agent South Dakota**

**Written by WargishBoromirFan**

* * *

"_I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger." ― _J.K. Rowling,_ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_

* * *

South had made the biggest mistake of her life that night.

Many single women would not consider waking up between two strong, intelligent, and - she grudgingly admitted -physically attractive naked men who were very obviously interested an all bad thing, but it wasn't just the hangover that sucked the moisture from her throat. It wasn't just the force of Georgia's arms pulling her closer or the weight of Ark on her back that drove the air from her lungs. She could bury her aching forehead into the warm brown curve of Georgia's shoulder, block out the light, close her eyes, and pretend she knew nothing, but it wouldn't change the sensation of Arkansas's hands against her bare chest, the rising bruises not simply on her own skin - both men's backs and shoulders had been rent by fingernails and that love-bite she could see against Georgia's collarbone from her current position would probably not match up with Ark's dental-work - the shiver of chilled sweat that remained her only layer between either of them, and worst of all, the stickiness that was not entirely blood and sweat pooled between her thighs.

Half the Freelancers on the ship had teased Arkansas and Georgia for their closeness, and from the tangle of their legs, there was little effort to disprove the rumours. Georgia had crooked one knee about Ark's, entangling with the taller man. Arkansas had left his legs slightly spread, open to any upward thrusts of Georgia's hip to rub against the inside of his thighs. There certainly seemed little worry about who was touching what as they slept. And her legs - her body - had been wrapped around both of them, squeezing around Arkansas's knees just as the two men enveloped her.

She couldn't move. She couldn't make a sound. If she woke them... Well, the two men were likely as sluggish from alcohol and spent energy as she was, but Ark was worryingly close to cuddling her from behind, spooning against her, and Georgia had one hand reached all the way to Ark's ass, but the other was in her hair, fingers buried in the tangle as if looking for the best spots to stroke and soothe and pull her in for a kiss. And they were hard. Neither was penetrating, but she could feel them pressed against the insides of her thighs, solid, tumescent, all but dripping...

There were no used condoms in the floor or dangling drunkenly from the edge of a garbage can. There was no sign of a wrapper, opened or not. This was Georgia and Ark's room; the usual mess was in full effect. Tools were scattered across nearly every available horizontal surface besides the one occupied bed. Blueprints competed with York's attempts at "candid photography" for wall space. A heap of standard black undersuits had piled by the door - her own was probably somewhere among them - and the rest of their armour had been flung to the four corners. It almost made her choke back a sob when she saw the half-finished project flagrantly labelled **"Georgia's baby - Do Not Touch**" that had previously occupied the centre of the mess, fallen to a green pauldron triumphant on the workbench. She wasn't sure if the armour piece was hers or Arkansas's, but the unfinished mechanical marvel wasn't the baby she was worried about.

It could be Georgia's. It could be Ark's. There could be nothing to worry about. But if they woke...

They'd been drunk. If she could slither away without waking them, they seemed like they'd probably enjoy each other's company, making her presence here even worse, but she needed to escape the slow kneading of Ark's thumbs, the twitch of Georgia's nose as he buried it deeper into her neck, the stretching legs that indicated at best that the two were settling closer to her in their sleep, as if whatever rough, impulsive, half-remembered urges had driven them to collapse in one bed last night could rise to affection, to - not that word; she couldn't think that word - to something stable as naturally as breathing.

_No. Hell no._ South didn't care if Georgia pulled on her hair, if Ark pinched her nipples, if she could feel them both slide against sensitive places that made her body beg to linger, she had to slip away, and quickly. Hazel eyes slid open as Ark fell into Georgia, but there were those who were early risers and those had early mornings drilled into them. South gathered a drop-cloth about her and decided to come back for the armour later. She picked up the first undersuit in the pile and rushed from the room before ideals or optimism could convince her to stay.

Surely there was a morning-after pill she could bribe, bully, or steal off of someone on the Mother of Invention. Maybe even one that made her forget the reasons she had needed one and how they'd felt, how they'd looked, how they'd sounded, how they'd tasted in the heat of the night. Something that made her not want to know how that morning might have otherwise gone.

She avoided North's eyes when she changed into exercise gear and "went for a run." She didn't tell her brother where she'd been. He probably already knew; he hadn't seemed too worried. South wished she could be so calm about it.

She took a pregnancy test instead. South took the whole pack, but tried to tell herself she didn't need the pill locked away with the other prescriptions, to be handed out only to those who were willing to say anything to one of the doctors, so long as nothing took anyway - even if nothing was likely to take for at least twenty-four hours and might not for up to a week before she could laugh it off as a close call, a drunken misadventure, a threat safely defeated, as she'd defeated anything else thrown in her path.

She waited to retrieve her armour until she was fairly certain that both Ark and Georgia would have left the room, hopefully still nursing hangovers and not in a position to notice anything purple in the mess. She found it stacked outside the door in a fairly neat pile and wasn't sure what to make of the steel rage that burned in her throat, so she didn't talk much once she suited up and met Carolina coming down the hall, pulling out newbies for their next mission.

South ached all day.


	4. Violence Gets Me Going

**(A/N) Hey guys, time for another Phase Midnight chapter, written by the fantastic anna1795 and once more featuring the demonic manipulations of Lt Ian Harper, giving chills to all who read it. At this point, you're probably wondering how he can get more sadistic, right? Well, read on to find out!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Violence Gets Me Going**

**Lt Ian Harper**

**Written by anna1795**

* * *

"_We made love like two smiles torturing a frown. My advice is to put it on the rack, and really stretch out the event." _

― Jarod Kintz, _My love can only occupy one person at a time_

* * *

_Any minute now,_ Ian thought to himself as he sat back in his chair, his feet resting against the end of a twitching bedframe, patiently watching the bound, shirtless man with dark hair thrash about, screaming and crying, waiting with hooded eyes. It must've been torture for this part of Jason to be tied to a bed on his front, no memory of how he'd gotten there, not able to see where his 'enemy' was. Even more so was the blood that was still clearly visible on his hands, that Ian had decided not to clean off, hoping to spur something dark and delicious inside his plaything.

_He's been going at this for almost an hour…kid's got a set of lungs,_ Ian admitted to himself, twisting a knife between his fingers. Finally, Jason slumped against the bed, breathing heavily, still gasping and crying but no longer screaming. Ian smiled to himself. _Showtime_.

He stood up languidly, keeping out of Jason's tired vision as he prowled around the bed. "You were screaming a bit like that when we were out in battle today…but, you know, more laughing," he pointed out lightly, tossing his knife into the air and catching the tip expertly. "All that blood on your hands? Only a fraction of what you tore out of those people today." Beneath him, Jason was breathing raggedly, flinching and whimpering at his words. Harper couldn't help but feel a pulse of heat and passion ignite his veins at the reaction. "It was so lovely, seeing you out there, tearing apart the battlefield. Literally."

His knife flashed out, nicking Jason's shoulder and drawing a small bead of blood. The young man groaned softly in pain. "That little bit, Jay? I'm disappointed," Ian said with a pout. "You can usually take much more than this. You'd be begging for me right about now."

"…not…not that kind of person…" Jason gave a feeble wail. "I don't…don't kill people." Ian couldn't help but laugh as he tangled his hand into Jason's hair and tugged on it, leaning close to his ear.

"Yes, you are. You remember what happened out there today, and just forgot. I'll be happy to remind you, though," he hissed into Jason's ear, causing the younger man to start crying harder. "All those men falling to your gun, and you glocking them in the head to make sure that they stay down…" he started rasping into his captive's ear.

"No…" Jason moaned as the knife cuts across his upper arm, but there's just a hint of less pain in his voice. "Stop…please…"

"Then came the women…the way that you tore that one girl's arm clean out of the socket was particularly gory…and delicious," Ian continued to rasp into Jason's ear, each sentence fragment accompanied by another random cut to his body. Jason twitched and moaned under him, but he could tell already by the way his moans were changing that Jason was being pushed back down, and Jay was starting to bubble up again. "Twisting all those necks, letting the heads start flying, and the children catching them like basketballs…oh, and then the children."

"No…" he heard him hiss. "No…stop now, Ian."

"_Gotcha,_" Ian whispered. "The kids were always the easiest for you. I didn't know that you knew what to do with them besides tie them together and douse them in petrol before setting them alight like Independence Day fireworks, but boy, today was a treat!" he squealed giddily. Under him, Jay began to groan and twist in his bonds. Ian could tell by the way his hands were reaching that he was trying to find him.

"You just told them it was a game…that they'd play and they could all go home. Just toss their parents' heads around for a little while, get them all nice and scarred…" He sighed wistfully as Jay grunted underneath him, desperate to be free. "You certainly know how to get me going, Jay, but I practically creamed myself at the last part."

Jay growled up at him, giving him a dark glare, and Ian knew that he had Jay at the part where there was no escape, no going back. Ian got on top of Jay at that point, straddling his hips from behind and bending over him. The knife starts tracing a crimson line down the centre of Jay's spine, certainly not deep enough to cause any pain. "When you lined all those kids up with their parents' heads in a row, like they'd won a trophy of some kind, and just gunned them down all along that wall…" He pressed into Jay with a smile against his skin, the knife completing its journey from the top of his spine down to his pelvis.

"…fuck me, goddammit," Jay hissed up at him, and Ian smiled triumphantly, tearing off his shirt and throwing the knife so that it landed in a wall.

"Oh, I intend to."


End file.
